Titfield Thunderbolt
It was the Ealing comedy that immortalised Britain’s love of trains… RAIL is on the trail of The Titfield Thunderbolt.
The Titfield Thunderbolt was inspired by a book by that well-known railway author L.T.C. Rolt (the author of Red
for Danger, the definitive account of Britain’s railway accidents). The book in question was Railway Adventure, which was published in 1952.
Rolt had been honorary manager for the Talyllyn Railway for two years, and some of the film’s scenes make use of his anecdotes – for example, using pots and pans to replenish an engine’s water supply and having passengers pushing carriages.
The Titfield Thunderbolt (filmed summer 1952, released 1953) was the first Ealing Studios comedy shot in colour. It relied not only on Rolt’s book for some of its storylines, but also the restoration of the Talyllyn – the world’s first heritage railway run by volunteers.
The film’s premise is quite simple. When a rural branch line (the Titfield branch) is threatened with closure, a group of local volunteers decides to try to run the railway itself. Provided they can stump up the cash and pass the inspection, the railway might continue. This community initiative is in the face of fierce opposition, however, not least from a local bus operator seeking to benefit from the line’s demise.
The film tapped into the railway closures that were already occurring in the early 1950s, so it was topical when released. It took on a whole new level of poignancy a decade later, of course, when Beeching took centre-stage. The fight between road and rail would become real and present, and lots of little branch lines would lose out. The volunteers’ spokesman presents an apocalyptic vision of a closed railway and traffic switching to the roads, with all the attendant congestion. Continuity errors there may be, but the film’s core truth is as prophetic as ever.
In the film, the volunteers see off the bus company’s underhand tactics and prevail. In real life, however, the line they ‘saved’ in the film had already closed, and the track would be lifted before the 1950s had ended.
So, where exactly was The Titfield Thunderbolt filmed? And does any of the railway still remain?
The main filming location was a sevenmile stretch of line between Camerton and Limpley Stoke in Somerset, a few miles south of Bath (the Camerton branch line of the Bristol and North Somerset Railway). This broadly west-east line connected with other routes leading into both Bath and Bristol, and is still discernible along the valley of the River Misbourne.
At the west end of the line was Hallatrow, which was a junction for a closed line to Bristol. Heading east from Hallatrow was Camerton, then Midford, where our line crossed with the Somerset & Dorset Junction Railway coming down from Bath. Further east still was Monkton Combe, which doubled up as Titfield for the film, and then the line arrived at Limpley Stoke (another junction, this time with today’s extant line between Bath and Westbury). Limpley Stoke is closed, however, so I would need to head towards Monkton Combe for some answers.
The fictional railway had to be a railway to somewhere, of course, and it duly arrived at Mallingford (Bristol Temple Meads in the real world). The film made use of a redundant platform (the fish dock), and spent just one day filming with the Liverpool and Manchester Railway (LMR) 0-4-2 ‘57’ Lion locomotive, dating to 1838.
The backdrop is much changed, with apparently just the houses on the skyline now remaining from what is glimpsed in the film. If Mallingford was the end of the line in one direction, then we assume that Titfield was meant to be the same in the other – although, in actuality, Monkton Combe was a through station.
The fact that two lines crossed at Midford was perfect for the producers, as this handed them a classic opening scene in which an express train (hauled by a Bulleid locomotive) crossed Midford Viaduct above the Titfield branch train, which is on its way into Mallingford.
There were also bridges (railway over and under), which gave the opportunity to emphasise the rivalry between rail and bus. In one scene, the bus crosses a bridge over the Titfield train (A36/B3108 junction in between Monkton Combe and Limpley Stoke), while
Steps (padlocked shut when the building is not in use) lead up to the surviving platform, which is fenced off from the tracks. Trains still hurtle through here, but no one has alighted at Limpley Stoke in an awfully long time.
another clip features the roles reversed (Midford Road, Midford) as the train heads towards Mallingford.
The real line had much industrial heritage, as North Somerset had an extensive coalfield. Dunkerton Colliery, between Camerton and Midford, was used for the scene where the Titfield locomotive (no. 1401) and the traction engine-cum-steam roller belonging to Harry Hawkins (Sid James) engage in ‘thou shalt not pass’ pushing and shoving.
The locomotive wins on this occasion, but both antagonists (railway and bus company) need to win Hawkins over to their side. Another early scene in which the local squire (Gordon Chesterford, played by John Gregson) tries to overtake the same traction engine was filmed at Carlingcott, close to Camerton.
But what of Monkton Combe, a couple of miles southeast of Bath? The station had been closed to passengers as long ago as 1925, but the line remained open for freight until the closure of another of those collieries at Camerton, in 1950. This gave the film the opportunity to use a now closed but still intact line - a window of opportunity before track lifting commenced.
Arriving at what was the station site today, I am greeted by a changed spectacle. The station is no more (demolished in 1958), with the site buried under tennis courts belonging to a public school. Gratifyingly, it’s still possible to make out the site clearly enough.
The station, which was partially enlarged for the film (presumably to give it more of a terminus feel), was in Mill Lane. An old gate post, an embankment wall and a section of railings survive, but if you look hard at the film, you will spot other, more substantial, bits of the village. There’s a distinctive mill chimney (still extant), and the road along which the train’s patrons head is that self-same Mill Lane - it’s barely changed.
To get an appreciation of what the station may have looked like, I head to nearby Limpley Stoke, as this station survives (albeit closed, with the buildings no longer in railway use). The word is that the two stations were almost identical.
Today, Limpley Stoke acts as the hub of a mail order bookshop for rail enthusiasts, named aptly The Titfield Thunderbolt (it is described as the “postal address and spiritual home”). It played a part in the film, too. It was here apparently where we see volunteers marching along to Titfield station with a canopy/cover for the locomotive shed.
I am staying at the Limpley Stoke Hotel, just a couple of hundred yards’ walk uphill from the station. Emerging from the hotel’s approach road I find the ‘Station Garage’, and beyond this the station, which is raised up above the road on a stone wall. Steps (padlocked shut when the building is not in use) lead up to the surviving platform, which is fenced off from the tracks. Trains still hurtle through here, but no one has alighted at Limpley Stoke in an awfully long time.
Monkton Combe’s cricket ground also appears prominently in the film, when a train comes puffing past while a match is in progress featuring members of Combe Down Cricket Club. The ground is situated near the former Viaduct Hotel, Limpley Stoke, and is held to be one of the most picturesque in the country. Cricket is still played here, including by a local school. The farm where villages purloin pots and pans to feed their loco with H2O after their water tower has been sabotaged is also in Limpley Stoke (it’s ‘Brett Farm’ and it’s private).
Not all of the Titfield village scenes were filmed in Monkton Combe. A little further southeast is Freshford, which was also used for village street scenes, as well as the house
of the man who stumps up the cash – the inveterate boozer Walter Valentine (played by Stanley Holloway).
‘ Valentine’s House’ is in fact the Old Parsonage, down Church Hill from the church where the train-driving vicar presides (Sam Weech, played by George Relph). The Old Brewery, with its tall stone chimney has been converted into a luxury home. The bottom end of Church Hill features in a scene where those against the railway have a float warning of the mortal dangers of a volunteer railway (“a victim of amateuritis”).
Freshford still has its station – the first out of Bath, on that Westbury line. It’s very bus shelter-ish. The next one south, Avoncliff Halt, has two of the shortest platforms on the UK network (just long enough for one carriage).
Not all of the filming was done in Somerset. Winsley ( Wiltshire) provided the setting for the HQ of the bus company, Pearce & Crump’s – it was AH Daniels’ garage in the village, and its buildings have now disappeared under a housing estate (the company also owned the bus that was used in the film).
Oxfordshire came into its own for the scenes where Valentine and his accomplice Dan (Hugh Griffith) pinch a locomotive (1466) to replace one that’s been put out of action by saboteurs. We’re led to believe that they’re swiping it from Bristol (Mallingford), but it’s really the engine shed at Oxford.
The pretty market town of Woodstock was used for the continuation of that scene, as the two inebriated gents try to get their filched locomotive back to Titfield. In comedic (and crazy) sequences, they end up steering the derailed engine through streets, for which they used a wooden mock-up shell built onto a Bedford lorry chassis – if you’re eagleeyed, you can spot rubber wheels inside the locomotive’s supposed driving wheels.
The Market Square in Woodstock is featured here, although to tidy up one point, it wouldn’t be possible to steer a locomotive ‘off-road’ anyway – locomotives run on rails, so they cannot be steered.
The foolhardy attempt to steal a locomotive fails abruptly when the drunken ‘crew’ bang it into a tree in parkland (Richmond Park). In another scene when the arch-enemy, the bus, hits a police van, Richmond Park was again the setting.
London also came into its own. Having failed to nick one locomotive, the volunteers then hit on the idea of resurrecting the original branch locomotive from its museum (the
Thunderbolt, hence the film’s name). The museum from which the Thunderbolt was stolen was the old Imperial Institute, which was demolished in 1957. It once stood on the west side of Exhibition Road, South Kensington (Imperial College occupies the site today). Incidentally, it wasn’t Lion being used in that scene – it would have been a tad heavy, so they used a studio-built model. The Ministry of Transport, which features discussions about the volunteers’ chances of keeping their railway open, was actually Berkeley Square House, in Berkeley Square.
As well as the heroic triumvirate who succeed in saving the railway ( Valentine, Chesterford and Weech), the railway has other supporters. These include Dan, who helps with the engine driving (sober and ‘four sails to the wind’) and who has his home (a disused carriage) used as emergency accommodation on the railway, and Joan (Gabrielle Brune), who serves the drinks, both in the pub and on the train. This is no temperance movie!
Harry Hawkins is converted by a proposal of marriage from Joan, and assists in extremis. The railway’s chief adversary is George Blakeworth (Naunton Wayne), the owner of the bus company.
A proper train crew was also needed, and driver Ted Burbidge, fireman Frank Green and guard Harold Alford (all BR employees) were recruited from Westbury depot to operate the train on location. Reputedly, as they ‘looked and sounded the part’ (well, they would, wouldn’t they?), they were given speaking roles and credits.
But what of the film’s true stars – the motive power and carriages?
The ex-GWR 1400 Class 0-4-2T locomotive (no. 1401) was hired by the film’s producers as the branch locomotive, and features until it crashes down an embankment (more sabotage). 1401 doesn’t play this scene, however – that was entrusted to effective scale models.
As already mentioned, Thunderbolt was actually Lion, repainted in red and green for the film. In the scene where Thunderbolt was ‘rear-ended’ by a carriage, Lion’s tender did sustain some actual damage. The real
engine can be seen in the Manchester Museum of Science and is believed to be the oldest working locomotive in the world (just nine years younger than Rocket).
Lion managed speeds of around 15mph (on the level and unloaded). To give the impression of faster speed when hauling the train, the ex-GWR 0-4-2T was used as a banker but braking sharply out of shot, to permit Lion to race on ‘unaided’. Lion’s top speed doubled to 30mph via this simple expedient. An ex-Kelvedon & Tollesbury Light Railway coach was given gainful employment.
For the record, the steam roller was a 1904 Aveling & Porter 5nhp (nominal horsepower), ten-ton Type R10 steam road roller. It was still in commercial use at the time of filming, and went by the name of Maid Marion. Pearce & Crump’s coach was a Bedford OB, painted blue and cream and bearing a Wiltshire registration, 338 GAM.
As for the railway line itself, the first part of the line had been built between Hallatrow and Camerton in 1882, and was worked by the GWR, which took it over in 1884. Unsurprisingly, the principal traffic was coal.
In 1907 the line was extended to Dunkerton Colliery (Somerset’s largest), then on to Limpley Stoke – a seven-mile, heavily engineered section that included a 78-yard viaduct at Dunkerton, three more viaducts at Midford totalling 153 yards, and a 66-yard tunnel at Combe Hay.
Despite all these obstacles, the complete line duly opened to passenger services in May 1910 with five trains each way.
In March 1915, passenger services were suspended as a wartime economy. Resumed in July 1923 following local pressure, they ceased again in September 1925. It then became a freight-only line (mostly coal) until its final closure in 1951, with the track lifted in 1958.
Closure to passengers hadn’t meant an end to patronage, as there were still occasional specials. Monkton Combe School, for example, chartered a rail motor to take its students to Saltford Regatta (on the Avon between Bath and Bristol). However, the line’s lifeblood was its three or four coal trains a day, plus a general goods train, although when Dunkerton Colliery (the scene of miners’ riots in 1908-9) closed in 1927, just one train a day sufficed.
The withdrawal of passenger services had rendered the western section between Hallatrow and Camerton redundant, and this was the first part to close in 1932. With the loss of Camerton Colliery in 1950, trains on the branch averaged less than one a month. Closure (and filming) was imminent.
The line was always destined to fail, as it ran east-west when most traffic in the area was north-south. Much of the route today is occupied by a road.
Hallatrow was originally a single platform, but a bay was added for the Camerton branch trains. Heading east, there were halts at Paulton and Radford & Timsbury. Camerton was a single platform with a William Clarke building. The station had one of the three GWR brick-built signal boxes on the branch, and beyond the station was the line leading up to the colliery.
Dunkerton Colliery Halt was mainly intended for colliery workers, and had a corrugated-iron pagoda. The colliery sidings here were quite extensive, with the entrance controlled by a signal box and shunting the
responsibility of a Peckett 0-4-0ST. The line crossed Dunkerton Viaduct after the station. At Dunkerton was the branch’s final signal box. Trains could cross here, but as the station had a single platform, this was not for the convenience of passengers.
Combe Hay Halt was followed by Combe Hay Tunnel, which was apparently once occupied by itinerant sheep that had squeezed through a fence (presumably they fancied the shade). Midford Halt was located on an embankment, so was timber-built for lightness, with a corrugated-iron pagoda. Unlike the other stations it failed to reopen after the First World War, as only one or two passengers were frequenting it per week.
Monkton Combe (Titfield) had a station building that was the mirror image of Dunkerton (a wooden frame on a brick plinth, the walls panelled with 3ft sq artificial stone slabs). The station had a goods loop and a siding for a flock mill (a mill used for shredding cloth used in flock paper). Mill Lane crossing was at one end of the station. Monkton Combe School used the railway at the beginning and end of term, with luggage conveyed by private lorry. An extra porter would be sent from Bath to help with all this seasonal baggage.
The main line to Bath was reached about a mile before arriving at Limpley Stoke, where the actual junction was. To prepare for the branch opening, the main line platforms were lengthened with the Down extended further to allow for a branch bay. A new building was constructed on the Down platform resembling those at Dunkerton and Monkton Combe.
Finally, The Titfield Thunderbolt was not the first time film crews had headed for the branch. Arnold Ridley’s The Ghost Train was filmed at Camerton in 1931, when a train of six corridor coaches and dining car (ostensibly the ‘Cornish Riviera Express’) ran over the line, probably the longest passenger train ever to do so. Night scenes for an Edgar Wallace thriller,
Kate Plus Ten, were also filmed at Dunkerton Colliery Sidings in 1937.